Forging ahead with fictional endeavours: ~ Write a life on a page and hurry not to its grave; abhor not the coming age, for eternal is the next page. ~ Read what you will, I hope you will enjoy reading as much as I do writing.


Links to previous sections can be found here.

To say I shot out of my apartment like to was on fire would not be an exaggeration. I had lived there for a few years so it felt appropriate to treat leaving like ripping off a band-aid – best done quick. The move itself turned out relatively easy. As Emily had said, Victor was kind. He had been very accommodating; he even offered to help move my junk in the evenings. By they time evening rolled around I had a wall of boxes neatly tucked away in my new room and Victor had given me the short tour of the house. “There’s space in the loft if you need it, just let me know I’ll carry stuff up for you,” Victor offered with an odd look towards the attic.

“Thanks but I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’m a lot stronger than I look.” Victor looked a little distressed. “It’s not a bother, and I hope it didn’t sound like I thought you were weak. Just please don’t go up into the loft – It’s dangerous.” There was an urgency to his tone that immediately made me need to question Victor but then I noticed something that distracted me completely. “Hey, is that a rabbit??”


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